


Giving Blood

by waterbird13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Starvation, angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:23:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny, frightened of reminding Sam anymore than he has to about what he truly is, seriously cuts down on his blood intake. Sam puts the pieces together and helps Benny out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giving Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all--  
> Welcome to my first SamBenny fic on AO3 (if you like the pairing, there's way more on my tumblr).  
> Warnings for you--here we have blood drinking and blood loss (consensual, and not drastic blood loss), vampiric starvation, a little bit of angst, and some hurt/comfort. If that appeals to you, read on, and I hope you enjoy!

Benny, to put it simply, stops drinking.

It’s not something he wants to do in front of Sam, who hunts vampires and doesn’t need any more reminders of what he’s dating.

So, for a while, he drinks in secret, taking his blood bags in the middle of the night, while Sam is out, whenever he can be sure he’ll not be interrupted and have time to clean everything up before Sam gets back.

But then the times comes when he and Sam are essentially together all the time. Sam sleeps curled around Benny, Benny has been welcome into Sam’s researching and library work (even if he doesn’t think he’s much help, Sam seems to want him there), they spend most of their spare time with each other, just the two of them or with Cas and Dean.

The time Benny has to grab a bag decreases, until it all but withers away.

He can go a while without blood, a lot longer than a human can go without water, but it’s nowhere near indefinite and it starts to show quickly.

He begins to lose muscle mass and energy. Sam notices quickly, of course. He’s frightened, frustrated, but Benny just smiles and tells him everything is fine.

Sam worries so much that he starts hovering, never leaving Benny alone, which, while well-intentioned, is the opposite of helpful.

It gets bad, and Benny finds himself sleeping more and more.

One morning he wakes up to find himself alone in bed. While it’s been a while since that happened—Sam has taken to watching him sleep, like he alone can tether Benny to life (or his sort of half-living state) should he start to slip away—it’s not completely unusual. Sam must be on a run.

Benny can hope it will take a while. He gets up—slowly, but as quickly as he’s able to—and goes to the kitchen.

Sam is standing in front of the discreet little side fridge Dean and Benny had installed one afternoon for Benny’s blood bags. His arms are crossed over his chest. Benny falters.

"Your bags are expired,” Sam hisses. 

"Oh," Benny says, faltering. It’s not like he can’t drink expired blood. Those dates are meant for hospitals and emergency workers. But it loses a lot of its nutrients.

"How long?" Sam asks. "How long has it been?"

Benny shrugs. He’s not sure. A week, maybe. Maybe a little more.

"I realized last night," Sam says. "I’m a fucking idiot for it to have taken this long. Should have realized…the minute I knew something was up with you. Not much that can harm a vampire. Not like you could have had the flu or something, right? But I didn’t even think…you’ve always been so private about it, I just figured you were drinking on your own, alone. No big deal. But I just figured it out, and came to check, and sure enough, a fridge full of expired blood." His expression breaks. "Benny…tell me what’s going on. You trying to kill yourself?"

"No," Benny says. "I was coming out, just now, going to get a bag…"

"Which was expired," Sam interrupts. "So clearly you haven’t been keeping track of them, haven’t been paying enough attention, haven’t been drinking enough. What gives?"

Benny slumps. “If you give me a few minutes, I’ll drink one down and we’ll be all set,” he says.

Sam’s eyebrows go up. “If I…first of all, you’re not drinking that shit, it’s worthless. Second…why do you need me to leave?”

"C’mon, you can’t want to see that!" Benny protests. "Me, drinking blood. Gross, right? Unnatural. Monstrous."

Sam goes very, very still. “Did I ever say something to make you think that?” he says quietly. “Because…I might have. I hope…ever since…well, since you came back, since I gave you a chance, I’ve tried very hard…I have my own issues with drinking blood, Benny,” Sam says, a wry little expression briefly crossing his face. “But I never want you to feel like I have issues with what you do. With what you need to survive.”

"You’re a hunter, Sam," Benny says. "I wouldn’t expect—"

"Then start expecting," Sam says. "Because I expect you to drink when you need, take care of yourself.”

Benny looks at him judges him for sincerity, and finally nods. He suppose he won’t know how sincere Sam really is when Sam sees him drinking blood.

"Fine, get outta the way, I’ll grab a bag," Benny says.

Sam doesn’t move. “I told you, this is worthless. All the nutrients are gone at this point.”

Benny runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Well, shit, then, I gotta go find a blood bank, or a Red Cross truck, or somethin’.”

"Not right now, you’re not," Sam says, finally stepping away from the fridge and towards the counter. "No way you’re in good enough shape to pull that off, you probably shouldn’t even be outside right now."

"Then are you going to go?" Benny asks, growing more and more frustrated.

"Take too long," Sam says, rummaging through a drawer. He comes out with a knife, and Benny puts the pieces together. 

"Hey, what’re you doing?" he snaps.

Sam looks at him, long and hard. “I need you to be honest with me, Benny, because I won’t give you tainted blood. If I have to, I’ll go find you something, but this will be faster. So…my blood. Does it smell bad to you? Unnatural? Sickly?” he swallows heavily. “Demonic? Be honest with me, Benny.”

"No," Benny bites out. "It never has, not since you started those damn Trials, not even really before that. It smells…sweet. Really good. Different. But not bad.  
Not…poisoned, or anything. Which doesn’t mean I’m going to take it."

"I’m offering," Sam says quietly. "Actually, I’m kind of insisting. You’re not taking, you’re not going to hurt me."

"At least…put it in a cup. So I don’t take directly from you," Benny says.

"You have any idea how long that would take? Or how big a cut I’d have to make for that? Look, I’ll cut myself, and I’ll bleed, and I think at this point you’re so desperate you won’t really be able to stop yourself from taking it. Or, I can put the knife down and you can take what you need."

"How do you know I won’t take too much, kill you, bleed you dry?" Benny asks.

Sam looks at him pointedly. “Because,” he says. “I know you. Now, let’s get you fed, so I can have some damn breakfast and we can grab a shower before we go to the hospital to stock up on fresh bags for you, okay?”

He holds out his wrist and Benny is stupidly glad he hasn’t insisted on the neck, takes the proffered limb and brings his mouth to it, kisses the spot where he intends to bite, and then does it.

The blood is even sweeter than he imagined, and Benny doesn’t think it’s entirely because he went without for so long. It’s Sam, pure and simple. 

Benny looks up, trying to catch a glimpse of Sam’s face even while he gulps greedily at Sam’s blood. Sam’s looking back at him, and he doesn’t look like he’s in pain at all, despite two fangs in his arm and the blood leaving his body.

He takes his free hand and rests it in Benny’s hair, not pushing or pulling, just resting.

Benny sucks for another moment before backing off, lapping up the last trickle of blood. He gently cradles Sam’s arm in one hand, surveying the damage. It’s amazing how much blood he can get out of two tiny puncture wounds.

Despite not having had nearly enough blood to make up for time lost, Benny feels infinitely better—having blood in his system at all, having fresh blood, having Sam’s blood in his veins has rejuvenated him—so he makes Sam sit in one of the kitchen chairs and digs around in the junk drawer for a bandaid. 

Benny puts it on Sam, who wears a bemused expression, than busies himself pouring Sam a big glass of orange juice.

"It really wasn’t that much blood," Sam protests even as he accepts the glass. "Really, I lose more than that on an average hunt."

"Drink up," Benny advises, and digs through the fridge to see what he can make Sam, settling on eggs scrambled with cheese and ham hash.

Sam drinks as the food is frying, and drinks another glass at Benny’s insistence with his meal. “You know,” Sam says quietly, plate half-cleared. “I wouldn’t mind—at all—if, every once in a while, you maybe substitute some of my blood for a bag. If…if you liked it.”

Benny raises an eyebrow. “Best I’ve ever tasted, Sugar,” he admits. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna make this a regular thing. You lose enough blood on a regular basis without me adding to that. But…every once in a while…if you still want it…I’d take you up on that.”

Sam grins. “I’m a willing donor, Benny. More than willing. But we should…you need more bags. That you will drink this time, right?” Sam says, his expression piercing.

"Of course," Benny says smoothly. 

Sam leans forward for a kiss and Benny instinctually backs away. “Sam, I still got blood in my mouth,” he warns.

Sam grins and keeps moving closer. “My blood, anyways,” he says.

Benny chuckles, supposing that it’s true, that it’s not very likely to hurt Sam, so he gives in and lets Sam kiss him, kissing him back equally hard. Sam moves off his chair and onto Benny’s, straddling his lap.

They seem unable to keep their hands off each other, I’m sorrys and I’m glad you’re okays and we’ll never let things get this bad again promised in their touches.

Benny breaks away first, hands on Sam’s hips, holding him close. “You said something about a shower?” he asks.

"Yeah, but…considering…maybe we should just go," Sam says.

Benny grins. “Sugar, I’m well fed today. Think I can spare a few minutes for a shower with you.”

Sam grins and climbs off of Benny, taking his hand and pulling him up, leading the way, never letting Benny go.


End file.
